


Carried Away Like Butterflies

by dinosaursmate



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Drunk Harry, Events assistant Louis, Flirting, Fluff, Homeowner Louis, Lighting technician Harry, M/M, Masturbation, One Night Stand, Pining, The Art of Seduction, because he's a grown up, doesn't have much bearing on the story really, it's a bit complicated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-21 09:33:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9541694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dinosaursmate/pseuds/dinosaursmate
Summary: “Actually…” Liam said, scratching his chin absently. “I have a friend who is moving to London soon.”“Without anywhere to live? Who is it? Do I want them living in my home?!”“You met him at my birthday party. Harry, from Cheshire. Remember? Really tight jeans, curly hair down to here?”Realisation dawned on Louis, staring at Liam who was gesturing round about his nipples. Did he remember Harry? Did he remember Harry?He remembered Harry’s square front teeth biting into his collarbone, and he remembered Harry moaning, loud and obscene with no provocation. He remembered Harry dropping to his knees at the edge of the bed and roughly pulling Louis closer. He remembered, vividly, Harry’s lovely plump lips wrapping around his-“Lou?”“Uh- what?” Louis said, startled. “Oh, yeah. Um, I think I remember him.”-It was probably a huge mistake for Louis to let his former One Night Stand move into his spare room, especially when said One Night Stand doesn't seem to remember him.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [karamelised](https://archiveofourown.org/users/karamelised/gifts).



> Based on this prompt:  
>  _Roommate au. Louis desperately needs a roommate because the rent is killing him. Somehow only Harry is a viable option. Problem is, Louis remembers the drunken hook-up they had a few months ago while Harry doesn't._
> 
> Karamelised, it's been a pleasure to write this for you and I hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> Thank you for submitting so many prompts, and I wish I could've written a girl direction for you. 
> 
> Big props to my beta who gave me equal amounts of screaming encouragement as she did calling me out on my shit. Thank you my love. I will credit properly when I'm revealed!

It wasn’t much, really; it was just a small, two bedroom flat in North London, but it made Louis the happiest man on earth because it was  _ his. _ He was  _ grown up  _ now. Twenty six years old and he owned a flat in London. He could barely comprehend it. It was his brand new pride and joy; the living room was spacious for London (Louis could finally look into getting a really big TV) with a little balcony leading off it which overlooked his street. The kitchen was small - accessed through the living room - but fine for the limited amount of cooking he planned on doing, and to top it all off his bedroom caught the morning sun. Perfect.

In fact, that bloody morning sun had just woken him up, yet again streaming in through the gap between the blinds and the window. Maybe he should switch to curtains, or move his bed to that other wall. 

Groaning, he flipped over to face away from the window. It was ten to nine and his shift started at twelve. Plausibly, he had time to put together his new bookcase (that he wasn’t entirely sure he needed) before he absolutely had to leave… Maybe not. Liam would freak out if he was late.  _ Again. _

This had been his first lie-in for a fortnight and so he stubbornly closed his eyes and snuggled into his duvet but it was no use, he was never going to get back to sleep. Might as well get up. He already had a text from Liam warning him not to be late because he’d need his help with a delivery. Louis literally couldn’t care any less than he already did and he unceremoniously threw his phone across the room, satisfied by the dull thud as it hit the chair in the corner. Said chair was buried under a mountain of hoodies that he’d unpacked onto it and it occurred to Louis that he needed to have a tidy up.

When Louis arrived at work, he wordlessly took his coat off, barely listening to Liam relentlessly reeling off jobs for the day. Louis let out a long groan, gradually getting louder until he was drowning Liam out.

“Liam, you know not to speak to me until I’ve had a coffee.”

“Louis, there’s a lot-”

“Liam!” Louis grumbled, throwing his coat at Liam’s face.

Liam exhaled loudly through his nose, walking over to the little kitchenette in their office and switching on the kettle.

“How’s the new place?”

“Mate, it’s fantastic. One tube, straight here.”

Liam tilted his head, smiling. Since Louis moved to London two years ago, Liam had been the only constant, and it wasn’t just because he was Louis’ boss. He was a wonderful man who had been a very supportive friend and, despite the stick he gave Liam on a daily basis, Louis would do anything for him.

“Can you go to the stationary cupboard to get some paper for the printer?”

“Piss off,” Louis sighed, sitting down and switching his computer on. “What time’s this delivery coming?”

“Any minute,” Liam said, scooping instant coffee granules into Louis’ tea-stained mug. “Paper, Louis? Please?”

Louis sighed, slowly standing. He dragged his feet, shuffling out of their office to head to the stationary cupboard at the end of the corridor.

He’d worked for this events company ever since he’d moved to London and in his first week, he’d walked into the stationary cupboard to find his boss fucking one of the events assistants, and he immediately knew he’d enjoy working here. It seemed like an interesting place. 

The bloke was sacked, and Liam was promoted to office manager. The atmosphere had been tense when Louis arrived but once Liam has been promoted, the whole office seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. In the past two years, the worst thing Louis had walked in on Liam doing was picking his nose.

“Is your coffee the right colour?” Liam asked as Louis walked back into the office. He leaned over, looking into the cup on his desk.

“It’s perfect, babe, thank you.”

Liam looked very pleased with himself as he sat at his own desk.

“Louis?”

“Mm?”

“I need to talk to you about something.”

Louis slowly looked up from his keyboard and narrowed his eyes at Liam.

“Uh oh.”

“Well, since we’re getting more work in, John’s gonna employ another assistant.” Liam chewed the inside of his cheek. “So… when they start…”

“Spit it out, lad.”

“You’ll lose your overtime. You’ll go back down to forty hours.”

Louis let out a long groan.

“Are you  _ kidding?”  _ Louis whined, panic starting to creep into his gut. “Why couldn’t this happen  _ before _ I bought a bloody flat?!”

“I’m so sorry, Lou.” Liam sighed. “I’ll try and give you overtime whenever I can, okay?”

Louis sighed heavily, his lips flapping together noisily. He’d been doing up to sixty hours some weeks, and at any rate he’d not done a sold forty-hour week in over a year.  _ Stupid stupid stupid.  _ He was  _ stupid _ to assume he’d carry on with so much overtime. 

“Louis?”

“I’ll work something out,” he mumbled, miserably. 

“Honestly, look on the bright side.” Liam smiled. Louis glared at him. “You work far too hard as it is. It’ll be nice for you to have a lighter workload.”

“What use is that if I’m living on the street?”

-

Panic was creeping in again.

No matter which way he sliced it, he wasn’t going to be able to pay his mortgage. Was he really going to have to sell his lovely flat already? This was  _ bullshit. _

Maybe he could get a second job. Sell his body maybe? Grow some weed? He stood from the dining table and made a beeline for the bathroom. The anxiety was giving him a sore tummy. 

When he came out of the bathroom, holding his tummy and groaning softly, he finally admitted to himself what he already knew: he needed a flatmate. 

The thing was, he had been so,  _ so  _ looking forward to living on his own. He grew up with four younger sisters and, as much as he loved his family and living at home, the concept of a quiet house and his own space was a delicious one, and something he’d been enjoying thus far. But if he wanted to keep his lovely little flat, he knew what he needed to do.

“I don’t  _ want _ to put an ad out,” he sighed to Niall, who had invited himself for brunch. “I want someone who comes highly recommended. I don’t want just any old bastard living in my home.”

“Calm down,” Niall said, wide eyed. “Just a suggestion.”

Louis scoffed as Niall bit into his bacon sandwich, ketchup dripping down his chin. Sharing a flat with Niall and two others had been fun in a sort of adolescent way, and if Niall was looking for a place, he’d move him in in a heartbeat. They’d found someone to rent Louis’ room though, and Niall’s flat was a steal rent wise, so Niall would likely never leave until he was dragged, kicking and screaming.

“Are you  _ sure _ you don’t know anyone looking?” Louis asked miserably.

“You know I don’t.”

“What am I gonna do? I don’t want a stranger in my house.”

“Look, just ask around. No one at work looking?”

-

“Actually…” Liam said, scratching his chin absently. “I have a friend who is moving to London soon.”

“Without anywhere to live? Who is it? Do I want them living in my home?!”

“You met him at my birthday party. Harry, from Cheshire. Remember? Really tight jeans, curly hair down to here?”

Realisation dawned on Louis while staring at Liam, who was gesturing round about his nipples. Did he remember Harry?  _ Did he remember Harry? _

He remembered Harry’s square front teeth biting into his collarbone, and he remembered Harry moaning, loud and obscene with no provocation. He remembered Harry dropping to his knees at the edge of the bed and roughly pulling Louis closer. He remembered,  _ vividly, _ Harry’s lovely plump lips wrapping around his-

“Lou?”

“Uh- what?” Louis said, startled. “Oh, yeah. Um, I think I remember him.”

Louis could tell from the nonchalance on Liam’s face that Harry never told him they’d hooked up and Louis hadn’t told him, either. Awkward.

“I’m not sure…” Louis sighed. “I mean, ask him. See what he says.”

“Yeah, okay!” Liam nodded, smiling. “Harry’s great, you two will get on really well.”

Louis’ experience of Harry was certainly  _ great. _ And he was moving down to London… even if Harry was extremely unlikely to want to move in, Louis was very interested by this turn of events. He wondered if they’d  _ happen _ to bump into each other at any point.

“I imagine he’s nice to live with.,” Liam continued to speak as Louis ripped open the cardboard packaging of his sandwich and ate lunch at his desk,  _ again. _ “He’s not a slob or anything.”

“Mm,” Louis mused. “What does he do?”

“He’s a lighting technician. Freelance, but sometimes he takes short resident jobs. There’s more work for him down here, really. He does like, theatre work, gigs, sometimes even events. We might be able to use him, in fact.”

“Alright, well, drop him a text, Liam.” Louis sighed, sending a text off to his other old flatmates to ask if they knew anybody. “See what he says.”

Louis finished his sandwich, downing his tea and walking over to make another, the memory of Liam’s birthday party coming back to him. The packed dancefloor, sweaty bodies pressing in everywhere, Harry’s mouth on Louis’ neck. The office suddenly felt too warm, stuffy.

“Oh, cool!” Liam said. “He’s interested. Can he come see the place this weekend?”

-

A balcony had been essential to Louis so he could smoke, although he did plan to give up soon. But not today.  _ Definitely _ not today. He hadn’t thought even for a minute that Harry would’ve been interested in living with him, but he supposed it’s likely Harry didn’t remember him by name. Louis was anticipating the look on Harry’s face when realisation dawned; he wasn’t sure whether he dreaded it or looked forward to it.

He stubbed his cigarette out, stepped inside and closed the door behind him, popping a chewing gum in his mouth. It wouldn’t do to smell of smoke, would it? His heart nearly fell out his arse when the doorbell rang. Might as well get it over and done with.

He took a deep breath, walking to the front door.

“Hello!” Harry said brightly. “I’m Harry. I take it you’re Louis?”

Louis emotionally braced himself but Harry just beamed at him politely, waiting to be asked inside.

“Um-” Louis frowned. “I thought Liam was coming.”

“Nope, just me.” Harry shrugged. “His boiler’s broken down, needs to wait for the repair man. Said it’d be okay to come on my own.”

Louis blinked, stepping aside and gesturing for Harry to come in. He really was as attractive as Louis remembered; his hair looked clean and fluffy, curling at the ends and pushed back at the front by sunglasses atop his head, despite it being November. He pulled his coat off and hooked it on the wall and Louis’ lips parted, his breath catching slightly. Harry was wearing a thin, white t-shirt, arms littered with tattoos and Louis could even see some on his body through his t-shirt. He’d never got to see any of Harry’s body last time, more’s the pity. 

“Um…” Harry sighed, grinning coyly. “I hear we’ve met before.”

He really,  _ really _ , actually didn’t remember. Well, Louis felt like shit. How could Harry possibly not remember something that Louis remembered so vividly? Of course, it  _ was _ a party. They were both drunk, but to not remember Louis  _ at all?! _

“I was basically already wasted when I arrived.” Harry smiled apologetically, chewing his thumbnail. “I hope I didn’t humiliate myself. Oh, but, I’m not a pisshead. I don’t normally do things like that. I’m a great flatmate, really, or I’d like to think I am. I can give you the number of my… I’m rambling. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Louis sighed, shaking himself into lucidity. “Let me show you around.”

The awkwardness was palpable as Louis led Harry around, showing him every room - except his own bedroom - and when they got into the living room, Louis walked Harry out onto the balcony.

“Um… it gets kinda noisy out here sometimes, you can’t hear it from inside when the door’s closed, but you know, out here…”

“Aw, sick.” Harry said quietly, leaning his long body over the railing and looking down at the street, then left to right. “Bet it’s lovely out here on a summer evening with a cold beer.”

“I moved in at the end of September.” Louis shrugged. “But yeah, you’re probably right.”

Harry smiled and Louis had an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach. He led Harry back inside, closing the balcony door and sighing inwardly.

“So, we should probably have a chat. You want a cup of tea?”

A few minutes later, they were sitting at the dining table opposite one another, Louis’ stomach still churning uncomfortably.

“Um… so the rent Liam quoted you will include all bills, including really good WiFi. Sky too, in the living room, and if you want a box in your room we can ring up and get a quote. Any questions?”

“Not really? Umm…” Harry sighed, pouting and staring at the ceiling in thought. He was so  _ pretty,  _ and even taking a sip of tea looked sexy when he did it. “Mm, I’ve got one: if I move in, will you make me more tea? This is a great cuppa.”

“Maybe,” Louis said, breaking a genuine smile at last. “If you’re good.”

Harry grinned back. The wide, silly smile reached up to his eyes and bore rows of white teeth. 

“Okay, well, I’d like to officially express my interest in the room.”

The hope in Harry’s eyes cut right through to Louis’ heart, his expression bright and eager. This was a terrible,  _ terrible  _ idea…

“Alright, so when are you moving in?”

-

“How many mugs do you have room for?”

“What?”

“How many mugs can I put in the cupboard, Louis?”

“However many will fit is fine,” Louis said, shrugging. “It’s not that important to me.”

Harry rolled his eyes, unpacking a box marked  _ kitchen. _ He’d officially moved in three days ago but Louis hadn’t seen him much. He was still doing overtime and had been working twelve hour days, but today he had a Saturday off for the first time in forever and he was determined to spend it in sweats and not leave the house if he could help it.

“So, where did you live before you moved here?” Harry called. “I take it you were renting?”

Louis kept his eyes on the TV as Harry poked his head out from the kitchen.

“Mm, yeah I shared a place with three people in Catford.”

“Oh, what made you come North of the river?”

“Easier to get to work up here,” Louis said, glancing at Harry at last. His long hair was tied in a bun, wisps flying free at his temples. He was absently biting his lip, teeth dimpling his full lips and Louis tried to ignore the stirring inside of him.

“You like working with Liam?” Harry left the kitchen and leaned up against the wall, folding his arms. “Like the job?”

“Yeah, it’s…” They made eye contact and Harry was listening and staring so intently, peering right down into Louis’ soul and he felt sweat prickle his forehead and that same affronted feeling bubbled in his stomach.  _ How could he forget me? _ “Liam’s a great boss. Keeps me in line.”

“Right,” Harry laughed.

“I like the job, but I’d like to move on at some point. I always wanted to be a party planner but I might need to do something a bit more grown-up. Maybe a wedding planner?”

“Seriously?” Harry grinned. “That’s so cool.”

“Really?” Louis raised his eyebrows. 

Harry shrugged, smiling as he pushed off of the wall and walked back into the kitchen.

-

He was  _ always _ grinning. And if Louis was honest, it wound him up. How could Harry be so clueless? He had no recollection of even meeting Louis, let alone biting his flesh, or sucking his dick, or swallowing his bodily fluids.  _ Christ. _ He floated round the flat, somehow equally as elegant as he was clumsy, happy-go-lucky almost all of the time (though he did get in a bit of a strop when he burned his toast).

It had been two weeks and it wasn’t getting any easier for Louis. He was as attracted to Harry sober as he had been when he was pissed, and on top of Harry’s physical appeal - his long, lean legs and broad shoulders; his pink, full lips; his beautiful and mischievous green eyes - he was very  _ sweet. _ If he was home before Louis, which he was most days, he’d have a pot of tea waiting and the flat comfortably warm. 

“Well…” Harry shrugged coyly when Louis commented on it. “You’ve brought me into your home and let me live with you, I want to make you comfortable.”

But Louis was uncomfortable. Not only was he was practically half hard any given moment that they were both in the flat, but he couldn’t pinpoint exactly why he felt so offended that Harry had forgotten. Was it pride? Or was he judging Harry for getting so drunk he couldn’t remember sucking someone’s dick? 

It was Sunday, and Louis came in from the balcony, shivering. There was a bite in the air; December was closing in. Recently, it had been dark when Louis got home from work and he hated it. He gratefully reached for his tea sitting on the coffee table, and sunk into the sofa to resume his viewing of Friends repeats.

“Morning,” Harry croaked.

Louis glanced up and nearly dropped his tea. Harry walked through the living room, sleepily ruffling his curls and yawning. He was wearing a tiny pair of black boxers and nothing else. He disappeared into the kitchen.

“Shit,” Louis moaned quietly to himself. He hadn’t really seen much in the two seconds Harry had been in the living room, but it was enough to fluster him, and he tried to put on a brave smile as Harry poked his head around the doorframe.

“Want another cup of tea?”

“Yes, please.”

Louis downed his tea, slamming the cup down onto the coffee table and making his way into the kitchen. He didn’t want to, but something inside of him was tugging him towards Harry. 

“What are you up to today?” Louis asked.

Harry turned to him, leaning against the counter and scratching the trail of hair below his bellybutton, shrugging.

“Lazy day, I think. Are you about?”

“Might pop out, browse the shops.  Although it’s fucking freezing, so I can’t see myself braving it for too long.”

“Shall I cook dinner? A roast?”

Louis blinked at him, his mouth watering as Harry absently ran his palm up and down his own torso.

“That would be incredible, Harry.”

“Sick! Chicken?”

Louis nodded, speechless. Harry smiled, turning his back to Louis and stretching up to fetch a cup from the top shelf. Louis frowned, watching the muscles twitch in Harry’s shoulders and back, and dropped his eyes down to Harry’s bum. It was lean and pert, and Louis’ fingers twitched. What’s the worst that could happen if he just reached out… placed his hands on Harry’s hips… pulled him close…?

“I’ll get dressed in a bit then, pop over to Sainsbury’s. What veg do you like?”

“Whatever,” Louis replied airily as Harry turned back around. 

“6pm?” Harry asked and Louis nodded, smiling slightly. “Right, I’ll get dressed then. Will you fill the pot up once the kettle boils?”

“Sure.”

Harry winked at him, squeezing his forearm as he exited the kitchen, and Louis groaned quietly to himself. 

Louis had a quick shower, coming back into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of tea before taking it back to bed. He couldn’t stop thinking about the sight of Harry in his pants.  He felt like a horny teenager but it just  _ did something _ to him, the image of his broad shoulders and ripped arms, his pert pecs and nipples. The tattoos down his left arm and dotted on his torso…

Then there were his little boxers, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. Louis began to imagine what might’ve happened if he’d just dropped to his knees, right there in the kitchen, presenting his mouth for Harry’s use... _Fuck._

The front door slammed closed. Harry had finally left for Sainsbury’s. Louis sighed, shakily putting his tea down on his bedside table and running his hands down his body, gripping his dick firmly. It wasn’t fair, having to see Harry every day and to be the only one with the memory of their hook up. 

Louis vividly remembered the last thing Harry had said to him that night:  _ I wanna fuck you next time. _ Neither of them knew if there would be a next time, but Louis never forgot it, and he so, so wanted it. He wanted  _ Harry. _

He wanted Harry’s hands on him, touching every inch of his hot skin.  He wanted his mouth, the memory of those square teeth scraping on his skin driving him round the bend. He wanted Harry’s entire body pressed to his and he wanted…

He wanted Harry inside of him. In his imagination, they were fucking on the balcony, or up against the kitchen counter, or maybe on the sofa, Louis bouncing on Harry’s lap with Harry moaning obscenely into his ear, Louis crying out as he clenched around Harry’s dick, coming untouched all over his own stomach…

And then he really was coming all over his stomach, his hand flying desperately up and down his shaft as he let out a strangled moan. His body went limp, a sweaty mess as he took a few seconds to catch his breath. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, pulling some paper from the loo roll that was still by his bed from the cold he had when he moved in, wiping himself off and sighing.

As he trotted into the bathroom for his second shower in the space of an hour, he prayed and prayed that he wouldn’t feel awkward over dinner.

-

Once Louis started back on a 9-5 schedule, he found himself feeling more tired when he got home every night. Harry was swanning around, sometimes wearing clothes and sometimes not, and Louis was becoming frustrated in a few different ways. He  _ knew _ it had been a bad idea, moving him in. It felt like Harry was never at work, either; not that it was any of Louis’ business as long as Harry was paying the rent.

And on top of that, Louis was coming home grumpy. Not only was he tired, but finishing at five meant he had to brave the tube during rush hour.  _ Not _ his idea of fun.

“Oh, next time, let me know,” Harry said when Louis mentioned his woes. “I’ll come and meet you after work and we can get a drink or some dinner. Wait out the rush hour.”

Louis rolled his eyes to himself. Harry really was trying his best to be friends, and part of Louis appreciated that, but he was just so bitter.  So very bitter. 

“In fact…” Harry continued to talk as Louis laid his head back on the sofa rubbing his temples, “I’m gonna be in the area around lunchtime tomorrow, you wanna go for a meal?”

“I normally work through lunch,” Louis said. “Just… a sandwich at my desk.”

“Oh,” Harry said, tugging on his lip absently with his forefinger and thumb. “Alright.”

Harry slinked off into the kitchen and Louis huffed quietly. If he was going to get through this, he had to protect himself. He  _ could _ let Harry befriend him, but that would lead to spending time together, which would lead to getting drunk together, which would lead to Louis inevitably trying to make a move on Harry and whether or not he’d get laid, he didn’t think it would turn out well. 

“I’ll be working lates next week,” Harry told him, poking his head out from the kitchen. “Won’t be around so much.”

“Okay,” Louis mumbled.

“And I might be a little late doing my share of chores, but I will get them done, I promise.”

“No problem.”

Harry sniffed.

“Okay.”

-

The front door slammed and Louis was jerked out of slumber. He’d fallen asleep on the sofa again, and he quickly wiped the dribble from his chin and cheek as Harry walked through the living room.

“Hi.”

“Hiya.”

Harry headed straight to the kitchen and Louis could hear the low rumble of the kettle. He stretched his arms, yawning.

“Liam’s coming round later,” Harry called through to him.

“Yeah, he said.”

“You don’t, um…” Harry poked his head out and looked at Louis, clearing his throat. “You don’t mind if we take over the living room, do you?”

“No, no.  Go for it.”

Harry was leaning his whole body against the doorframe now, twisting one of his rings awkwardly.

“You’re welcome to join us, if you want. Obviously. We’re just gonna watch some films, have some pizza, that kinda thing.”

“I might, thanks.”

Harry frowned, biting on the inside of his cheek and walking slowly towards Louis. He sat on the sofa next to him, turning his body towards him.

“Louis?”

“Yeah?” Louis looked at him warily.

“Can we get a Christmas tree soon? For the living room? It’s okay if not, I can put one in my room - if that’s alright - but I just really like it when-”

“Harry,” Louis laughed. “That sounds great. What kind do you want? Fake one? Real one? Pink one? One of those weird fibre-optic ones?”

“I think I’d like a real one,” Harry pondered. “I’ll do all the extra hoovering it takes.”

“Okay,” Louis nodded.

“Great!” Harry beamed. “Thanks.”

Liam turned up a couple of hours later and forced them to watch some Batman film, but Louis couldn’t concentrate. He made one beer last for the time it took Liam to drink three - he didn’t think becoming intoxicated was a good idea - and he’d lost track of how many Harry had consumed. Harry was tipsy at the very least and he kept giggling at inappropriate times when they’d moved onto some stupid comedy he’d found on Netflix.

“I think I’d better head off,” Liam sighed after the second film ended. 

“Stay, if you want,” Louis said, standing up when Liam did. “You can sleep on the sofa.”

“No, I need to get home,” he yawned. 

“I never see you anymore!” Harry wailed from where he was sitting, slumped on the sofa. “Not fair.”

“If you weren’t so flaky, Harry, we’d see each other plenty.” Liam raised his eyebrows pointedly.

Harry pouted. Louis rolled his eyes, nudging Liam with a smile.

“You’re always welcome here, mate. Invite yourself round whenever you feel like it.”

“Cheers,” Liam grinned. “See you soon, Haz.”

“Bye, babe!”

Louis rolled his eyes, walking Liam to the door.

“See you Monday.”

“He been all right?” Liam asked in a hushed tone, tilting his head back towards the living room. 

“Yeah, fine,” Louis frowned.

“Alright. See you Monday!”

Louis closed the door behind Liam, returning to the living room. He was taken aback to see Harry - although still in the exact same place and position as he’d been left - had taken his clothes off and was slumped on the sofa in a pair of blue boxers.

“You alright Harry?”

“Was a bit hot,” Harry sighed. “Hate wearing clothes.”

“Well, you have to sometimes, mate.” Louis reached over to grab the fleece blanket folded on the back of the sofa, shaking it out and wrapping it around Harry. He perched himself on the arm of the sofa and Harry promptly laid his head on Louis’ lap. “You okay?”

“Mm,” Harry sighed. 

“You want me to take you to bed?”

Harry slowly turned his head to gaze up at Louis’ face, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

“Bit forward, isn’t it?”

“Harry.”

Harry continued to grin, staring into Louis’ eyes. For a moment, his smile faded, his brow furrowing and Louis almost,  _ almost _ thought recognition had dawned on Harry. But the curious expression was gone, and Harry’s weak smile replaced it as his eyelids started to droop.

“God, I haven’t seen you this pissed since-” Louis cleared his throat. “Come on, let’s get you to sleep.”

Louis wrapped an arm around Harry, encouraging him to stand and walking him the short distance to his bedroom.

Louis had actually never been in Harry’s room. It was pretty tidy, a stack of clothes in the corner clean and folded but not put away, and his bed made but crumpled. It smelt of clean laundry and Harry’s aftershave, an undertone of lavender coming from somewhere.

“How can you be this pissed?” Louis scoffed. “Did you really have that much to drink?”

“I drink to forget,” Harry said flatly, laboriously climbing into his bed. “Aaand… I’m a lightweight.”

“Hm, alright. Do you need anything? Do you think you might be sick in the night?”

Harry was frowning, looking up at Louis. He shook his head.

“No, I’ll be alright. Thanks for being so nice to me, Louis. I’m such a mess.”

Louis frowned, a bit concerned. Still, Harry seemed to think he’d be okay and Louis just had to trust him. He said goodnight, leaving Harry’s door open a crack  _ just in case. _

-

Harry had a terrible hangover the next day and he’d seemed rather sheepish ever since, keeping his head down and just smiling coyly in greeting when he passed Louis, until just over a week later when Louis came home from work to see Harry trying to position a haphazard-looking Christmas tree in the corner.

“Hi!” Harry said, his eyes looking a bit crazy. “How’s this?”

“It’s um… big.”

“Mm,” Harry frowned. “Is it okay though? Is it blocking too much of your bookcases?”

“No, no.  It’s fine.”

“I was, um, sort of hoping we could decorate it together.”

Louis was touched. He hated it, but he was touched. Harry was smiling at him softly and Louis nodded in agreement. 

He could picture Harry having his own place, taking pleasure in decorating it nicely, maybe surrounded by a family. He’d watched him prepare food, watched the way he thought about every tiny detail not only in the preparation but the presentation. Every meal Harry had made for him had been beautiful.

“Can I hang tinsel around the room, too?”

“You know what? Go absolutely crazy. I love Christmas, I’m just too lazy to decorate.”

Harry beamed.

“Can we get twinkly lights for the tree?”

“Yes!” Louis laughed.

“Awesome! I’ll buy all the decorations tomorrow. I wasn’t gonna get a tree until the weekend but I saw them for sale, and I couldn’t help myself.”

Louis grinned at him.

“Want a cup of tea?”

Harry shone like a lighthouse, nodding, trotting after him into the kitchen.

“You going home for Christmas?” he asked Louis.

“Mm, yeah, but only Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Back at work Boxing Day.”

“That’s inhumane!”

“It’s a bank holiday.” Louis shrugged, pointing at him. “And that means double pay and an extra day’s annual leave.”

“Alright, fair enough,” Harry sighed, folding his arms and propping his bum against the counter. “I’ll be gone from, like, the 23rd to the 29th.”

“Cool.”

“Back in time for New Year.”

“Alright,” Louis said. The kettle rumbled, clicking off and Louis poured the boiling water into the pot. “You going home?”

“Mm,” Harry sighed. “I’m off work from the 22nd, not back until the new year.”

“Oh, nice. Lucky you.”

The room went quiet, Louis busying himself by fetching mugs and wiping down the counters. Harry watched him, before quietly slipping out of the room. 

Louis let out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding. How could Harry’s mere presence throw him so out of sorts?

_ - _

When Louis got home from work the next day, Harry was sitting on the sofa tensely, surrounded by carrier bags  _ full _ of christmas decorations.

“You’re late!”

Louis frowned, looking at the clock on the wall above the TV.

“I’m like… five minutes later than usual.”

“Can we start?”

“Alright, well, make the tea while I get changed.”

“It’s made. I’ll pour it out.”

Louis felt a smile twitch on his face, walking quickly into his room. He promptly shed his work clothes, pulling some some comfy, clean joggers and a white t-shirt. He glanced in the mirror; the wind had proper messed his hair up. He self-consciously pulled on a beanie and padded out into the kitchen. 

“So, I was thinking…” Harry mused, handing Louis a hot mug. “Blue and green theme. That’d look nice, don’t you think? I  _ love _ blue tinsel.”

“Yeah, alright.”

“Great!” Harry beamed. “Alright, I’m gonna hang some, like a garland, by the windows while you drink your tea then we’ll do the tree.”

“Sweet.”

Louis sat in the armchair, on top of his own clean washing that he’d dumped on it, and folded his legs under him. He watched Harry directly in front of him at the other side of the room, standing on a dining chair and stretching up to hang the tinsel. The living room light was hanging a foot behind him, illuminating him perfectly and Louis tilted his head, admiring his shape. He was long and lean, narrow at the waist, tiny love handles poking out of the top of his jeans and the waistband of his boxers. Louis sighed as Harry flicked his hair out of his eyes and it bounced off his shoulders, watching his right tricep twitch as he finally managed to tape one end onto the frame of the balcony door.

“Aha!” Harry sighed triumphantly. He taped another bit up against the frame a foot away from the end, before jumping down from the chair. “This is so much fun! You enjoying just sitting there, watching me, eh?”

Harry laughed lightly, and Louis knew he was insinuating he was lazy, but his heart still jolted uncomfortably, almost as if he’d been caught staring. Harry dragged the chair towards the adjacent corner and hung the rest of the tinsel before jumping back down and putting the chair back. He propped his bum on the arm of Louis’ chair, Louis alarmed by the sudden closeness.

“How’s the tea?”

“Really good,” Louis replied in mild surprise. “You’re definitely learning.”

“Mm, I learn from the best. Hey, can I put tinsel around the TV?”

“Yes,” Louis laughed, “Course you can, babe.”

Louis’ eyes widened. Fuck, it just slipped out. Harry smiled widely and Louis mentally kicked himself.  _ Oh God. _

“Thanks. Now finish that bloody tea and help me.”

Louis rolled his eyes, throwing back the rest of his drink and standing up, walking over to the sofa where Harry had placed all the tinsel and baubles and those twinkly Christmas lights.

Hanging the decorations on the tree with Harry sort of felt… really nice. Almost like family. They threw easy banter back and forth, Harry making ball innuendo after ball innuendo, leading Louis to say maybe they should get a ball jar - the rules being, Harry puts a quid in the jar every time he makes a ball innuendo - but that just set Harry off again and by the time they’d finished, they were both giggling stupidly.

“Oh,” Harry said, peering into a carrier bag and taking deep breaths to stop his giggles, “I got an angel for the top. I know some people put stars, but in my house we always-”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Louis said softly, smiling. “Go ahead.”

Harry chewed at his bottom lip. “I want you to do it.”

Louis felt the tips of his ears go red.

“Oh, um, okay.”

Harry handed him the little angel ornament - a simple, plastic cone covered in gold fabric with a little wooden head - he took it gently and turned to the tree. It was a few inches taller than he was; he stood on the arm of the sofa, leaning over and placed the angel on the top of the tree.

“It’s perfect,” Harry smiled. 

“Yeah, looks good,” Louis said as he got down from the sofa.

“Louis? Thank you.” Harry swiftly pulled Louis into his arms, hugging him warm and close.

“Oh, you’re welcome.”

“This was really nice.”

Louis sighed.

“I need a cigarette.”

When he came back in from what he liked to call a crisis ciggie _ ,  _ Harry had switched the overhead light off and switched on the Christmas tree lights. It looked beautiful and homely, and Louis felt proud of their work.

“I forgot,” Harry smiled softly from the sofa as Louis shut the balcony door behind him. “I got you a present. I mean, it’s a Christmas decoration, but-”

Louis tilted his head, sitting down next to Harry. He handed him a brown box, a little bigger than his hand, and he opened it and peered inside.

“What is this?”

He pulled it out; it was a ceramic christmas tree, about six inches tall, the base of the tree an ashtray.

“Haha! This is great. Thank you.”

Harry smiled happily as Louis rubbed his back.

“ _...One _ more thing.”

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Harry rolled his eyes, searching through the carrier bags that littered the coffee table. He pulled out two more tree decorations - flat, gold and sparkly - he held them up and grinned at Louis.

In his right hand hung an  _ H _ decoration and in his left, an  _ L. _

A whole barrage of emotions hit Louis at once.  He was touched. Affronted. Uncomfortable. Flattered. It felt wildly inappropriate as a gesture, very couply, and it was overwhelming. 

“That’s… lovely,” he choked out, letting  _ touched  _ and  _ flattered _ take over his physical reaction, everything else bubbling in his gut and making him feel panicked. “I’ll be back, need a wee.”

He dashed into his room, taking a deep breath and dialling  _ Niall, _ childishly hiding himself under his duvet.

“ _ Hello?” _

At lightning speed and hushed tones, he told Niall the whole  _ Christmas decoration  _ story, struggling to breathe when he finally dropped the bomb regarding the initial ornaments.

_ “He’s clearly got a thing for you, Lou.” _

“But I don’t understand,” Louis replied with gritted teeth. “How can you have a  _ thing _ for someone and not remember them coming in your mouth?”

“ _ Ugh, Louis, please. Look, if he doesn’t remember, he’s not gonna magically remember just because he fancies you.” _

Louis stayed silent for a minute. What a bloody mess.

“It’s not a good idea, though, Niall. We live together.  It’s just messy.”

_ “And the fact you’re hostile as fuck towards him.” _

“Yeah,” he murmured. “What am I supposed to do now? Our initials are hanging on our fucking tree.  _ Our fucking tree. _ Oh my God! Why did I let this happen?! Why did I say he could move in?!”

_ “Calm down.” _

Louis wailed, loud and petulant down the line and Niall hung up on him.

-

The atmosphere had shifted and Louis couldn’t decide whether it was better or worse. Harry was… soft. Soft smiles and soft body language and even soft touches. He just didn’t want to see Harry being soft.

Although - seeing Harry hard would be just as problematic.

The next Friday, Harry announced his plans to cook a Sunday roast and Louis’ attendance was expected. If it was one thing Louis couldn’t say no to, it was a Harry Styles roast dinner, and so he made sure he was free. He suggested Harry invited Liam but Harry didn’t seem keen.  _ Wonder why. _

When Sunday morning came around, Louis awoke to a quiet flat. He made the tea, leaving it to brew while he went out for a smoke, before settling down with some hot, buttered toast in front of the TV.

“ _ Good morning!” _

Harry’s loud flourish made Louis sigh inwardly, but he was swiftly silenced when he glanced up.

Harry stood in the doorway, arms open as if to show off his outfit; nude aside from green boxers, thick blue tinsel wrapped around his left thigh, his waist and torso. He gave some kind of shimmy and something inside Louis fluttered and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Oh, what the bloody hell are you doing?” he laughed.

“Merry Christmas, Louis!”

“Christmas isn’t for nine days.”

“I know, Louis, but you’re gonna be back at home, and I’m gonna be back at home, I thought we could have our own little Christmas today.”

Okay, seriously. Did Harry actually think they were in a relationship? Louis was genuinely starting to think that Harry thought they were in a relationship. He felt so uneasy. 

“Dinner will be ready at about two.” Harry poked his head out the kitchen and narrowed his eyes menacingly. “Don’t be late, and  _ yes, _ we’re having turkey.”

“You’re cooking a turkey? Harry, that’s insane.”

“It’s just a crown, and I got the smallest I could find.” He rolled his eyes. “Don’t you worry yourself about it. Think of all the turkey sandwiches you can make for work.”

_ If Harry started making Louis his lunch every day… _

It was a confusing time for Louis, feeling powerless to control the situation and the few times he’d approached Harry, asking if he needed help, he’d been thrown out of the kitchen. He watched TV, his mouth watering as the flat filled with the smells of roast dinner, glancing every now and then at the H and L ornaments on the tree.

“Damn,” Harry sighed, wiping his brow on his sleeve as he emerged from the kitchen. “I should’ve got some champagne.”

“Harry!” Louis said, sounding slightly panicked. “It’s okay. This isn’t real Christmas. Can you just bring it down a notch? Christmas is stressful enough, you don’t need to put yourself through it twice.”

Louis was momentarily concerned about crushing Harry’s spirit, but he just beamed back at Louis and threw himself down into the armchair, his apron billowing up from the movement.

“I know. I love cooking though, it’s therapeutic. Helps me get out of my head a bit.”

Harry sighed, pouting as he pulled his phone from his apron pocket and started to scroll. Louis started to chew on his thumbnail thoughtfully. Harry was such a sweet guy, fiercely caring and generous, and Louis started to feel guilt tickling inside of him. Maybe Harry was being a little overbearing, but maybe he was just an intense sort of personality. He glanced at Louis as he got up from the chair, and he looked so loving and soft that Louis felt smitten. Shit, he felt like an arsehole.

Harry laid the table, digging through both of their crockery to find matching plates and cutlery, and laying the wine glasses proudly.

“I wish you’d let me do something, Haz,” Louis sighed. Harry grinned stupidly at the nickname. “I feel awful just sitting here all day and watching you.”

“Come and sit at the table.” Harry smiled softly. “It’s nearly ready.”

Harry’s Christmas roast did not disappoint. When he laid Louis’ plate in front of him, his mouth immediately watered. Harry poured them both a glass of Rioja and sat opposite Louis, sighing with relief.

“I’ve got the kitchen aches.” He stretched his back out, wincing. “I used to really suffer with my back when I worked in the bakery.”

“You need a massage,” Louis said casually, before kicking himself, realising it sounded like he was offering. Harry just hummed in acknowledgement.

Harry had placed two Christmas crackers behind their plates. Louis picked his up, gripping one side tightly.

“Come on, then,” Louis grinned. “Pull my cracker.”

Harry giggled childishly, grabbing the other end and pulling, winning the bigger half and his face lit up triumphantly.

“Yes!” He smiled to himself, sticking his fingers inside the cardboard tube and pulling out the gift, joke and paper hat. He shook the hat out, proudly pushing it over his hair to sit on his head. He glanced at the joke. “Oh, this is  _ great.” _

“I get the feeling you get all your jokes from Christmas crackers.”

“Shut up, listen. Okay. What do you give a dog for Christmas?”

Louis sighed, propping his chin on his palm.

“I don’t know.”

“A mobile bone!”

Louis rolled his eyes to the ceiling, shaking his head and trying really hard to hide his smile.

“Alright,” Harry picked up his cracker and waved the limp end under Louis’ nose. “Come on.”

Harry won the bigger half again and Louis threw his arms up in exasperation.

“This isn’t fair,” Louis stated.

“You get it anyway. What am I gonna do with two hats?”

Louis glared at him, snatching the cracker and shaking its contents onto the table. His gift was a teeny tiny silver photo frame. 

“I mean, what am I supposed to put in this?” He scoffed. “A picture of an eyeball?”

“Read your joke!”

“Because you need more material?” Louis rolled his eyes, grinning as he unfolded his christmas hat. “Hey!”

Harry looked at Louis’ hands.

“Hey!” he echoed. “Cool. Blue and green hats!”

Louis smiled as he pulled his blue hat on, Harry’s green hat slipping over his eyes.

“Come on, what’s your joke?”

“What has four legs but can’t walk?”

“I don’t know!  _ What _ has four legs but can’t walk?”

“A table,” Louis deadpanned.

Harry was visibly disappointed. “Okay, that was awful.”

-

Dinner was really, really good, which was thoroughly unsurprising, and Louis dragged himself to his feet to clear the table, despite Harry’s feeble protests. 

“I’ll clear it all up once my dinner goes down a bit.”

“Harry, I can clean the kitchen. I’m not completely useless.”

Harry pouted, rubbing his full, slightly bulging stomach. “I didn’t say you were.”

“Well, let me do something, okay?”

He filled the sink and put their plates in the soapy water to soak. He grabbed the wine bottle and returned to the table, pouring them both another glass.

“How’s things with work?” Louis asked. “You never talk about work.”

“There’s not much to say, really. I just go into a venue, do the job, and get out when I’m freelancing. I’ve been doing a lot of corporate events recently so I promise you, there’s nothing interesting to talk about.”

“You enjoy it, though?”

“Oh, yeah. When it’s boring stuff I just focus on watching the lights, you know. I love lights and colours.”

“Explains the dire need for all these decorations and twinkly lights.”

“Listen,” Harry laughed. “I could’ve been a  _ lot _ worse.”

“Mm, I believe you,” Louis smirked, scraping his chair back, away from the table. “Just going for a smoke.”

Harry peered at him over his wine glass. Louis made his way out to the balcony, shivering as he puffed through his cigarette quickly. Harry had disappeared from his view.  He’d kill him if he’d gone to do the washing up.

When he came back in, he shook all his limbs trying to warm them up, and went to stand against the radiator. Harry had wiped the dining table down, their wine glasses still there. Louis couldn’t hear him clattering about in the kitchen, so at least Louis didn’t have to kick his arse.

Just as Louis was warm again, Harry walked in from the hall, grinning wickedly with his hands behind his back.

“What now?” Louis groaned. Harry approached Louis, stopping a few inches in front of him. 

“Just so you know, I don’t really like Christmas pudding so I got us a Vienetta. Vienetta is Christmassy, right?”

“No.”

“Oh. We always had it at Christmas.”

“It’s okay, I love a bit of Vienetta.”

“Good. Hey,” he finally pulled his arm from behind his back and held something above their heads. “Mistletoe.”

Louis watched Harry closely, his wicked grin dancing on his face and his eyes twinkling. He remembered he and Harry kissing; it was wet, sloppy,  _ filthy. _ He had the feeling it would be different if he let Harry kiss him now. Delicate, shy, maybe even chaste. Caring. He sighed gruffly as he felt his resolve slipping, and he rolled his eyes to try and pull himself back.

Harry rolled his eyes right back at him.

“Don’t be so uptight, Lou,” Harry scoffed, smiling softly. He turned his head slightly, tapping on his cheek with his index finger. Louis sighed inwardly in relief, leaning forward and pecking Harry on the cheek. Harry laughed, running the back of his index finger along Louis’ cheekbone and turning to walk away.

Louis tried to ignore what felt suspiciously like disappointment bubbling inside of him.

-

The flat was eerily quiet once Harry had gone home for Christmas. Louis was eating toast for dinner because there wasn’t much else in the flat and he couldn’t be bothered to cook anyway. He packed a few things in an overnight bag at the last minute - most of the bag was filled up with Christmas presents - and on the morning of his birthday, hopped on a train back to Donny.

He was falling asleep whilst reading his book on the train, when his phone buzzed.

**_Harry Styles:_ ** _ What the hell? Liam just told me it’s your birthday! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me! Happy birthday xxxxxxxxxxxxx _

**_Louis:_ ** _ An insignificant detail! Have a good Christmas x _

Being back home was… noisy. The younger twins tore through the house at lightning speed, screaming or shouting or singing. Phoebe and Daisy were either bickering or burying their noses in their phones and Fizzy was in a heavy singing phase. Lottie was helping Mum cook Christmas dinner and Dan had taken the dogs on a long walk.

Usually when Louis visited home these days, it wasn’t quite as noisy as it was before he moved away. The girls were all pretty young when Louis had still lived at home, and the house was full of life.  Nowadays, Phoebe and Daisy tended to stay in their room or watch TV quietly, Doris and Ernie the only source of chaos. His mother deserved the peace, although he kind of thought she enjoyed the chaos, the constant reminder of  _ family _ around her.

Boxing Day morning came far too soon and Louis had to wake up before sunrise to drive home. He hated driving the journey; it took hours longer, but there just wasn’t a train that would get him back to London in time. He had no use for his car in London and he was going to have to pay to park it outside the flat. He wasn’t best pleased.

Work was… quiet. Liam was falling asleep at his computer and nobody else was in apart from the two of them. It felt pointless, but Louis had a ridiculous amount of paperwork to sort out before the New Year. Liam was sifting through his emails, but looked a bit worse for wear.

“Are you hungover?” Louis asked curiously. “Or are you just tired?”

“Umm…” Liam said slowly. “Bit of both.”

“Awful example to set for me,” he sighed. “Why is no one else here?”

“I only needed one of you. Told you I’d give you overtime when I could.”

“Oh. Cheers,” Louis smiled softly. 

They discussed their Christmases, but the office was mostly quiet all day. Louis had turned the heat on high - he got cold easily - and Liam fell asleep, head on his keyboard just after lunch. Louis sighed, making them both a cup of tea and carefully placing Liam’s on his desk, out of reach for any flailing limbs. As he got back to his desk, his phone started to ring.

“It’s Boxing day, who the fuck…” he muttered to himself, throwing himself down in his chair and lifting the receiver. “Good afternoon, Louis Tomlinson speaking, how may I help?”

_ “Mr. Tomlinson? I was wondering if your company provided sexual services, and if so, how much? What can I get for a tenner?” _

“A punch in the dick,” Louis replied, grinning. “Do you really have nothing better to do than prank call me, Harry?”

_ “Not really,” _ Harry sighed regretfully.  _ “What ya doing?” _

“Hang on.”

Louis took his mobile from the desk, snapping a picture of Liam faceplanting his desk and texted it to Harry.

“ _ Oh my God!” _ Harry laughed childishly down the phone.  _ “Is he hungover? Or just tired?” _

“Both,” Louis snorted. “How was Christmas?”

_ “Quiet. Tipsy. Yours?” _

“The exact opposite.” Louis sighed. “It’s weird you not being in the flat.”

_ “Awww! I’m back in a few days.” _

Liam woke up not long later, giving up and sending himself and Louis home. Louis picked up a takeaway on his way back, unlocking the door to the flat and feeling sad not to have the usual rush of warmth flow through him. The flat was baltic, and he hurriedly dumped his dinner on the kitchen table and rushed to whack the heating on.

It was a sad affair, coming back to the empty, barren flat. Louis watched TV under the blanket, determinedly eating his chow mein with crappy wooden chopsticks. He kept glancing at the tree.  The H and the L glistened under the main light of the living room, and the uneasy feeling that had been absent in Louis’ gut during his time away came screaming back. Despite himself, he walked over to the tree, turning the twinkly lights on and turning off the main living room light.

-

Harry got back when Louis was at work, but Louis only had a short shift so he got home around 2pm, bringing in a Greggs lunch for them both. When he walked through the door, he could hear Harry showering, and he headed into the kitchen to put the kettle on.

But the teapot was under the cosy, hot.  _ Of course _ Harry had already made tea. God, he’d missed this.

“Hiii!”

Louis turned round to see Harry walking towards him through the living room, hair dripping and towel precariously hanging around his waist. Louis had got used to Harry not wearing clothes, but he could never  _ get used to it. _

“Hiya.”

Harry pulled him into a hug which was… uncomfortable. Louis tentatively placed his hands on Harry’s bare back, feeling his long hair drip onto his collarbone. He smelt strongly of cocoa butter and his skin was slippery.

“Missed you,” Harry threw out casually as they parted. “You’ve not taken the tree down.”

“Oh, erm… do you think I should’ve?”

“No! I put it up, I should take it down. I’ll do it next week.”

“I brought lunch in, have you eaten?”

Harry peeked around Louis.

“Is that Greggs? I love you. What did ya get me?!”

Louis ignored the twisting in his gut. “Chicken mayo baguette. And a steak slice, obviously.”

Harry moaned in pleasure and Louis couldn’t breathe as Harry took the Greggs bag, peering inside as he strolled into the living room. Louis pulled himself together, pouring them both a cup of tea. 

“If you’re not back at work until the new year, why’d you come back so soon?”

“Well, my sister goes off again and my mum goes back to work, there’s no point staying. I’d rather be down here for New Year, too.”

“What are you doing for New Year?”

“Nothing,” Harry grinned. “It’s overhyped, don’t you think? Just another excuse to get drunk. Everywhere’s so crowded. Yeah, no, I intend to get pissed here.”

“Oh, come on!” Louis smiled indulgently. “I’m going out with Niall, you should come.”

“No, no. Thanks. Normally I’m up for a night out, but New Year is just…”

“Alright, if you say so.”

“I definitely have to come out with you guys one day, though.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

-

If he was honest, Louis really,  _ really  _ needed to get very drunk. The whole  _ Harry _ situation was fucking with his mind good and proper and he didn’t know what to do. So, in lieu of a plan, he decided to get wankered.

**_Neil Horan:_ ** _ Mate I’m fucked _

**_Neil Horan:_ ** _ Tommo I can’t stop chuckin up _

**_Neil Horan:_ ** _ Dodgy kebab or something I reckon, sorry to fuck up your plans for tonight _

Louis practically wailed with annoyance. 

**_Louis:_ ** _ Can’t be helped mate, feel better ! _

**_Neil Horan:_ ** _ Think of me at midnight, I’ll have my head in the toilet _

He threw his phone down on his bed, sighing. He chewed on his thumbnail, and as he stood to his feet and walked out into the hall, he wondered what Liam was doing tonight. He walked into the kitchen, opening the fridge and finding it full of various alcoholic products; wine, beer, cider, even a few pre-mixed vodka and coke cans. Harry was either keeping his options open or he was planning on a trip to A&E for alcohol poisoning.  _ Or _ he planned on having people round… no. He was too nice to do that without asking.

“Harry?”

“Hm?”

“Fancy some company tonight?”

Harry was laying as flat as possible on the sofa, eating an apple. His hand stilled at Louis’ words.

“Um-”

“Niall’s puking his guts up. Might as well stay home with you… if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry nodded fervently. “I’ve probably got enough beer for both of us.”

“Mate, you’ve got enough beer for the whole building.”

Harry shrugged, grinning.

“So what’s the plan? A quiet evening, couple of films?”

-

Louis probably should’ve been concerned about the neighbours, but he supposed they’d be out anyway. The music channels ran advert-free for hours and hours at New Year, and he and Harry had pushed the coffee table against the TV and had been dancing for the past half an hour. Louis was on his third beer and he was  _ buzzing. _

“So what happened to all this  _ ‘it’s just another excuse to get drunk’  _ crap then?” Louis shouted to Harry over the music. 

“I used it as an excuse to get drunk.”

Louis laughed delightedly, stepping back slightly to watch Harry dance. His hair was loose and flowing, flicking from left to right as Harry bounced on the balls of his feet, arms flailing with the movement. He was captivating, and it may have been the alcohol talking but Louis reckoned he’d never be able to tear his eyes away from Harry as long as he lived.

“Come  _ here,” _ Harry smiled widely. “Dance with me.”

Louis stepped closer to Harry before he’d even realised what he was doing and Harry started to shimmy at him. Louis laughed, throwing his head back and moving in time with the music. Harry’s hands slid around his hips, gripping him firmly and spinning him around so Louis had his back to him, Harry’s large hands encouraged Louis’ hips to sway side to side with the music, and then their bodies were flush, moving in rhythm together. Harry’s fingertips were pulling at Louis, and without thinking he arched his back to grind his bum back against Harry.  It was eerily similar to the events of Liam’s birthday, and the thought gave Louis a huge rush.

Louis felt a bit spaced. He felt Harry’s breathing become heavier as they wound their hips together, swaying with the music and Louis’ sensible side that had been screaming  _ bad idea _ at him constantly since Harry moved in was so muffled, it was incomprehensible. The air surrounding them was becoming clammy and on every grind backwards, Louis could tell Harry was finding the situation equally as arousing as he was.

“Hey,” Harry murmured in Louis’ ear, his voice surprisingly deep. “It’s nearly midnight.”

Harry leaned down to pick up the remote control from the sofa, stepping away from Louis a touch, flicking the channel to ITV where they were counting down to midnight.

“Shit!” Louis laughed in surprise when the crowd called  _ Six! Five! Four! _

“Louis.”

Louis turned to look at Harry. His eyes were glazed, wild.  He licked his lips and Louis closed his eyes as  _ two! One! _ rang out through the room and Harry kissed him, firm and sure, full of want and promise. Thoughts and feelings rushed through Louis at once, making him dizzy, and when he parted his lips for Harry to slip his tongue into his mouth, memories came screaming back, playing in his head like a film. His dick twitched at the foggy memory of the last time he’d encountered this beautiful, gorgeous mouth of Harry’s.

Harry pulled away with a smacking sound, sighing heavily and his fingers massaging the back of Louis’ neck.

“Lou,” he whispered. “You have  _ no  _ idea how long I’ve been wanting to kiss you.”

Louis’ brain clicked razor sharp, and suddenly he came to his senses with a jolt of panic.

“How can you say that?” he asked, incredulously. “Honestly, Harry, how can you say that and  _ not remember me _ ?”

“What?” Harry croaked. He looked dazed, confused, and hurt all at once and Louis had to steady himself before he fell over. 

“You’re full of shit, Harry!” Louis said, a little too loudly, and Harry recoiled as if Louis had screamed at him. “I’m going to bed.”

Louis stormed out, rage flowing through him, and somewhere in his brain he was berating himself, telling himself he should’ve known better than to get shitfaced. With Harry.  _ Fuck.  _ His bitterness was ebbing from his pores - or was that alcohol? - and he stripped off, climbing under his duvet and pulling it over his head, blocking out the world and everything in it.

When he briefly emerged from his cocoon an hour later to put his phone on charge, he noticed a strange object on his bedside table. It was the tiny picture frame he’d got in his Christmas cracker, Harry’s face scrunched up inside it, filling the whole frame.

Louis groaned.

-

As far as hangovers went, this one was  _ unbearable. _ Louis’ new year started off with tremendous head pain, a sensitivity to light, and a uncooperative digestive system.

Dread washed over him like a dark cloud when he remembered the night before and he was embarrassed. Embarrassed over his outburst and embarrassed over Harry forgetting him, irritated with the situation, and just so, so  _ done _ with the whole sorry mess.

He avoided Harry the best he could on New Year’s Day, stewing in his bedroom until it was safe to dash to the kitchen for food, or pop out for a wee. Louis was back to work on the 2nd, staying at work until 7pm just to avoid going home. When he finally did, Harry was sitting at the dining table, eating a bowl of pasta.

“Hi.”

Louis blinked at him, sighing before walking silently into the kitchen. He could feel Harry’s eyes on him, and when he left the kitchen with a cup of tea, Harry was watching him and looking absolutely crestfallen. 

Maybe he was being a dick and maybe he was being childish, but he just didn’t want to be in this situation anymore. He knew he’d probably have to be civil to Harry eventually, but for now, he didn’t want to open his mouth and say something he’d regret. 

At the weekend, Harry took down the Christmas decorations while Louis was slumped in front of the TV. Niall had invited him out tonight, but Louis was still wallowing and didn’t feel up for it, as much as he’d have liked to escape the awkward atmosphere in his flat, he just couldn’t find the energy.

Harry’s hair was tied in a bun and he was wearing a white t-shirt and grey jogging bottoms that were hanging low on his hips. He looked soft and beautiful, and as Louis watched him, he wished things could’ve been different. What if he’d met Harry when they were both in less of an intoxicated state? He daydreamed that Liam had set them up, sent them on a date to the cinema and then dinner, and they could’ve got to know each other first. Feel the butterflies of meeting someone new and exciting.  They could’ve had their first kiss, anticipation mounting as they tentatively explored each others’ mouths. As it happens, he and Harry had two first kisses: the one Louis remembers as first, and the one Harry remembers as first. It was fucked up and Louis felt like crying.

“I’m gonna chuck the tree tomorrow,” Harry said flatly, walking out the room, not anticipating a response.

-

Liam was acting strange. Louis didn’t think that Harry had told him they weren’t speaking, but he knew something was up. He kept glancing at Louis as if he was wounded; was he giving off a  _ vibe? _ Anyway, it was winding Louis up. If he could afford to, he’d take, like, two weeks’ unpaid leave and run away to Doncaster. Running away was always the solution.

“Want a cup of tea, mate?” Liam asked carefully, standing up from his desk.

“Yeah, go on then,” Louis sighed, pouting at his computer screen. 

Liam turned to look over at him. “Let me see if I can rustle you up a biscuit or two, yeah?” He smiled indulgently, and Louis had the wild urge to slap his face.

“Liam,” Louis huffed. “I’m not damaged. Why are you being weird?”

“You just seem a bit… sensitive.” Liam sighed, tilting his head. “Upset, mate.”

“Oh. Look, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it, Liam.”

Liam sniffed. “Well, you know I’m here. If you need to talk about anything.”

“I know. Thanks, you’re a good friend.”

Liam’s wide brown eyes were kind and soft, and Louis felt fuzzy inside. What if his issues with Harry destroyed his friendship with Liam? That would probably be the worst outcome of this whole Harry thing and he couldn’t bear the thought of it.

Louis walked through the front door just as Harry came out of the bathroom; they both stopped dead in the hallway before Harry went into his room, shutting his door firmly. Louis sighed as he kicked off his shoes. He walked into the kitchen and was pleased to see Harry had made a pot of tea. He poured himself a cup, trying to think about what to eat.

“Evening,” Harry deadpanned, blocking the doorway as Louis made to leave the kitchen. He stepped aside, and Louis wordlessly squeezed past him and threw himself down on the sofa.

Harry hummed to himself quietly in the kitchen, noisily eating an apple. After a few minutes, he padded out into the living room, leaning against the door frame and watching Louis as he opened his laptop, switching it on and trying to ignore Harry.

“Louis?” He said quietly. He sighed noisily when he got no response. “Louis, um, I just wanted to let you know that I am looking for a new place. I hope it’s okay to stay until I find somewhere, shouldn’t be too long, but, um, I’ll be gone soon.”

Louis finally looked at Harry. His shoulders were hunched and he looked defeated. Louis’ gut twisted uncomfortably.

“What?” he croaked.

“I get the message, you don’t want me here anymore.” Harry frowned. “Look, whatever I did to upset you, Louis, I’m really sorry. I wish you’d tell me. I hope one day we can be friends again, but until then, I’ll let you have your flat back.”

Louis clenched his eyes shut and thoughts were coursing through his head.  _ I can’t afford this flat on my own. I don’t need a spare room.  _

_ I’ll miss you. I don’t want you to go. _

Harry sighed again, turning to head back to his room.

“Harry.”

Harry stopped in his tracks, turning slowly to look at Louis.

“Hi.” He gave a tentative smile.

“Please don’t move out,” Louis murmured. 

“Come on, you don’t want me here. You’ve not spoken to me in over a week. I’m just a lodger. You’ll find someone else.”

“Can we talk? Please?” Louis asked. Adrenaline was running through him and he felt more nervous than he had in a long time. It was clear as day to him.  He needed to fix this before it went too far. Had it already gone too far? Harry was about to  _ move out.  _ Shit.

“Okay,” Harry mumbled, hesitantly walking across the living room. He sat on the opposite end of the sofa to Louis, keeping to his own space as best he could.

“I have something to tell you,” Louis said slowly. “Oh God, I don’t know how to say this.”

“Spit it out love,” Harry replied, sounding defeated, exasperated. Something uneasy jolted inside of Louis.

“Okay. Here’s the thing. I know you don’t remember anything from Liam’s party…”

“Where we first met?” Harry asked, and recognition dawned on him. “You’re upset that I don’t remember meeting you?”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that, Haz,” Louis grinned. “So, a thing happened. Between us.”

Harry’s frown ebbed away and his eyebrows shot up, his eyes widening.

“What?!” he groaned. “Oh my God, really?”

Louis nodded slowly. “I’ll spare you the gory details, but, yeah. And, look, for the record, I was quite drunk myself and feel pretty guilty for doing stuff with you when you were so out of it. I swear, I didn’t know you were quite so pissed.”

“It’s okay,” Harry sighed. “God, I’m so embarrassed, Louis. And... I’m really sorry, you must’ve felt really shitty when I didn’t remember you. No wonder you were pissed off.”

“Oh…” Louis sighed. “It hurt my pride, that’s all. I mean, because, who wouldn’t remember me?!” he grinned.

“I quite agree,” Harry smiled, before clearing his throat. “Look, you deserve an explanation from me.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You do,” Harry sighed. “Look, I was having a hard time. I’d found out three days before Liam’s birthday that my boyfriend was cheating on me. When I came down for the party it was still so fucking raw, I just wanted to get pissed and forget about it. I can’t even really remember arriving at Liam’s.”

“That’s shit, Harry. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. Turns out, the new boyfriend has already cheated on him.” Harry chuckled sadly. “I have, like, flashes of memory from the party. Lights, gin, dancing…”

“We danced,” Louis smiled. 

“Yeah?” Harry laughed slightly. “God, I really am so embarrassed, Louis.”

“I’m sorry I kicked off at you,” Louis sighed. “You had a very, very good reason to get pissed as a fart.”

“Probably wasn’t the most constructive thing to do,” Harry grinned. “Louis, I really hope we can still be friends.”

“Of course,” Louis said. “Come here.”

Louis opened his arms, and Harry shuffled along the sofa to him and moved in for a cuddle. They watched TV like that, Harry laying on Louis’ chest and Louis’ arms around him until Harry fell asleep. Louis gently woke him, and they parted ways into their own bedrooms, the air finally clear.

-

Their easy banter was back, a touch of flirting - although Harry had dialled back a  _ lot -  _ and Louis was happy. He still fancied the hell out of Harry but he felt like he needed to tiptoe around the situation a bit. They still lived together, and that stuff could get messy.  _ One day at a time. _

Liam came round and at Harry’s insistence, the three of them played board games. They played a game of Scrabble but Louis refused to play a second round; Liam kept playing misspelled words like  _ sensable  _ and  _ tence,  _ and Harry was getting wound up. Louis worked with the bloke, and was used to Liam’s terrible spelling but Harry was impatient and nearly tipped the board up in annoyance.

They played Monopoly and Liam was far, far better at it, and when he finally won the gruelling game (in which an indignant Louis came last) he went off home. Harry packed away the games and Louis cleared the empty beer bottles from the table.

“I love him,” Louis sighed. “He’s a wonderful friend, don’t you think?”

“Oh yeah, he’s great,” Harry agreed. “But… he just  _ can’t spell!” _

“Oh, Haz!” Louis scolded, throwing a balled up napkin at him. “Get over it.”

Harry smirked, grabbing his half empty glass of red wine.

“I’m trying to help him.”

“He’s beyond help. Some people are just terrible spellers, it’s not the end of the world.”

“Whatever. You want another beer or are you heading to bed?”

“I’m too sober to call it a night.”

“Beer it is.”

Louis grabbed the big half-eaten bag of crisps from the table and threw himself down on the sofa.

“You ever known Liam to have a girlfriend?” Louis called through to Harry. “I can’t work out if he’s always alone or just secretive.”

“He had a girlfriend in Uni,” Harry said, coming into the living room and handing Louis his beer. “They split up when he moved down here and, yeah, I don’t think he’s mentioned anyone since.”

“Maybe we should find him someone.”

“Oh, I dunno about that. What if he’s secretly married? With a kid?” Harry raised his eyebrows as he threw himself down on the sofa, crossing his legs under himself. His knee hit Louis’. “Maybe he’s just focusing on work.”

“That’s probably it. He’s a great boss.”

“He told me you’re great at your job,” Harry said. “Said that new girl doesn’t even get as much work done as you used to when you did the overtime.”

“Did he?” Louis said, raising his eyebrows in surprise. 

They fell into a comfortable silence as they drank, sharing the crisps. It had only been about a week that they hadn’t been speaking, but Louis had missed this. The few months they’d lived together had felt like a year, and Louis couldn’t believe Harry had been talking of moving out. 

“Louis.”

“Yeah.”

“Can I ask you something?” Harry said, shuffling closer.

“Course, what’s up?”

Harry licked his lips, sighing. “Will you tell me what happened that night?”

“What night?”

“Liam’s birthday.”

“Oh,” Louis croaked. “What, you want… all the, like, details and stuff?”

“Yeah. I need to know, Louis.”

Something stirred inside Louis and he swallowed. Where to start?

“Okay, um…” He sighed heavily. “So I arrived about half an hour after it started…”

-

Louis walked into Liam’s, and he barely recognised it. The living room’s furniture was nowhere to be seen and disco lights made it look like a dingy, tiny club. Louis had had a drink or two before he left, but he wasn’t tipsy enough to find the crowd an appealing place to be just yet; there were sweaty bodies everywhere and Louis couldn’t see Liam at all. He pushed through the crowd, making his way to the kitchen where Liam was making some kind of punch.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Try this!” Liam poured Louis a cup, and Louis skeptically took it, throwing some into his mouth. “Ah, fuck, that’s disgusting. I’m not drunk enough to chug that shit.”

“Needs more tropical juice, then.”

“Any beer, Li?”

Liam twisted at the waist, leaning behind and found a can of lager for Louis.

“Cheers, I’m gonna mingle.”

Louis wasn’t sure if there would be many people here he knew. Liam had invited most people from the office but Louis wasn’t positive many of them would even show up. He made his way into the living room, pushing through bodies once again and hoisted himself up to sit on the windowsill.

It seemed like there were hundreds of people, but while Louis was waiting for the alcohol to have an affect, he counted maybe thirty people dancing to the thumping beat. As his eyes searched the crowd for a familiar face, he spotted somebody watching him.

There was a man, right in the middle of the dancefloor; long, shiny brown curls bouncing as he swung his head side to side, snaking his body in time with the music. He had a plastic cup of what looked like white wine in his left hand and he was staring right at Louis. He felt the hairs at the back of his neck prickle, and he took a quick swig of beer. When he looked back, the man had gone.

Louis’ eyes finally found someone he recognised from the office, Cassie from reception who was maybe the most annoying person Louis had ever met. He sighed, deciding to stay on the windowsill for a bit longer. Just until he started to feel tipsy.

“Hello!”

Louis was startled to see the staring man from the dance floor standing next to him. He was dressed in all black, a silky-looking shirt with only the last two buttons fastened and skinny jeans ripped at the knees. The only colour in his outfit was the gold of his boots and the green of his eyes. He was holding two plastic cups with a finger of clear liquid in each.

“You want a shot?”

“What is it?”

“Does it matter?”

Louis snorted in amusement, jumping down from the windowsill and snatching the cup from the man’s right hand. He nodded, and they both threw the shot back. Louis spluttered as the liquid burned down his throat.

“Shit,” He muttered, picking his beer off the windowsill and swigging some. “If I have a rancid hangover tomorrow, I’m blaming you. Who are you?”

“I’m Harry,” he smiled lazily, holding a big hand out to Louis. “Liam’s mate from Uni.”

“Well, hello, I’m Louis.” He took Harry’s hand to shake it, and Harry gripped it tightly and pulled him close.

“Wanna dance?”

They headed to the kitchen first, chatting while Harry poured himself another cup of wine and fetched Louis a can. 

“I like your t-shirt,” Harry said, gesturing two fingers to the skull motif on Louis’ white t-shirt.

“Cheers. You... look great. Like some of kind rock star, or pimp.”

Harry beamed wildly, his eyelids heavy. “Thanks, I’m gonna just take that as a compliment and not overthink it.” He took a gulp of wine and refilled his cup. “Come.”

They headed back into the living room and Harry immediately grasped for Louis’ hip with his free hand, slipping his hand around to the small of his back and pulling him closer.

He was a gorgeous man, he really was. He moved languidly; slow and sexy and he licked his plush lips, never taking his eyes off Louis. The shot of whatever Harry had given him was starting to hit, the pleasantness buzzing through his veins and emboldening him. He drew closer to Harry, placing a hand on his left arm and feeling his rigid tricep flex under his fingertips. Louis took a swig of beer, looking down between their bodies and feeling a surge of arousal.

“Has anyone ever told you, you have incredible eyes?” Harry growled in Louis’ ear.

“Actually… yes,” Louis replied.

Harry snorted in amusement, downing the rest of his wine and tearing his eyes away from Louis for a second to place his empty plastic cup down on a table. Both his hands held Louis now, and Louis draped his arms loosely around Harry’s neck, still clutching his beer. Harry started to grind into Louis in earnest.

Louis wasn’t a huge one-night-stand kind of guy, but he had always been a hell of a lot easier to persuade when it was a friend of a friend. Harry was unlikely to be a sleaze. Liam kept fine company, as far as Louis was concerned, and that was enough for him to throw caution to the wind. Besides, Harry seemed very, very determined, and Louis was willing to give into him.

“Baby,” Harry rasped into Louis’ ear, “will you turn around for me?”

Louis quickly spun around, leaning back against Harry. They swayed with the music, Harry’s breath hot and heavy in Louis’ ear.  They moved together, hips swinging fluidly in time with each other and the music, before Harry abandoned all rhythm and started to grind again, firmly holding Louis’ hips as he rubbed against Louis, aroused and eager.

“Oh God, Louis,” he mumbled. “Your arse.”

“What, this old thing?”

“So sexy, baby,” Harry sighed, nipping at Louis’ earlobe.

“Want you, Harry,” Louis whined. Harry’s right hand finally released its grip on his hip, fingers sliding downwards and cupping Louis’ dick with his palm. “ _ Shit…” _

Harry was practically humping against Louis’ arse now, rubbing his dick through his jeans and something inside Louis snapped, hot and urgent.

“Fuck.” Louis sighed. “You wanna get out of here?”

Harry immediately grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the door. Louis quickly placed his can of beer on the hall table, just in time for Harry to pull him close and press their lips together. Harry’s mouth was eager, wet; he was frantic, and the sloppiness and urgency of the kiss was  _ so fucking dirty _ .

“Liam’s room,” Louis panted as Harry’s mouth moved to his neck.

“Said he locked it,” Harry mumbled.

Louis scoffed, pulling Harry up the stairs. Louis practically ran to Liam’s bedroom door, standing on his tiptoes and fumbling around the tiny ledge at the top of the door frame.

“Aha,” he smirked, finding the key, struggling to get it in the lock at first, and then they were pushing into Liam’s room and closing the door behind them. Louis quickly locked it again, leaving the key in the door.

The room was quiet and cool. It was extremely tidy, lit only by the moon until Harry flicked on the light.

“Need to see you properly,” he slurred, crashing against Louis and kissing him again. He urged Louis backwards until his legs hit the bed, pushing him down flat and quickly straddling him. “Have to…”

“What?” Louis asked quietly, holding Harry’s hips which were rutting softly on top of him. “What do you want?”

“Off,” Harry replied firmly. He jumped into action, quickly pulling Louis’ t-shirt off, throwing it on the floor. He moaned quietly, leaning down to kiss and bite and lick at Louis collarbone, grazing a hand over his torso and flicking a nipple. Shimmying back slightly to pull Louis’ jeans open, he tugged them down, bringing his boxers with them and he stopped in his tracks to stare at Louis’ dick, hard against his stomach. Louis’ hips were writhing slightly, and Harry snapped out of his trance to drop to his knees to finish pulling Louis’ skinny jeans off, after ripping his trainers from his feet and throwing them behind him.

“You knocked over a picture frame,” Louis told him in strained amusement as Harry finally succeeded in getting Louis completely naked. He was still on his knees, sighing and sitting back on his heels to stare as Louis picked himself up from the bed, leaning back on his hands and looking down on Harry.

“You’re gorgeous,” Harry said, tilting his head to the side. “Your cock is so pretty.”

“Yeah?” Louis’ face felt hot from the compliment.

Harry bit his bottom lip, square teeth digging deep into the flesh as he gazed at Louis’  _ pretty cock _ . He leaned in to roughly pull Louis to the edge of the bed, nosing at his cock.

“Harry…”

“God…” Harry threw his head back and moaned, loud and wanton. Louis’ eyes widened, his dick twitching as Harry wrapped his lips around it.

Louis couldn’t really comprehend what was happening. Harry was  _ filthy, _ groaning as loud as he could with a dick in his mouth, vibrating around Louis and making him cry out. He was slurping loudly and bobbing his head, swirling his tongue as if his life depended on it. Louis arched his back and moaned, grinding his hips slightly in time with Harry’s mouth, and when Harry pulled off slightly to suck at the tip of his dick, Louis sat bolt upright and grabbed onto Harry’s hair.

“ _ Fucking shit,” _ he whined. “Harry, Harry, oh my God. I’m-”

Harry lifted his eyes and looked straight into Louis’, and then Louis was coming, shooting into Harry’s eager mouth with a cry, weakly thrusting for a couple of seconds before collapsing back on the bed and panting loudly. Harry licked around his tip, making Louis flinch and then he was gone.

Louis lifted his head to see Harry sitting back on his heels, head thrown back with his eyes closed and he was…  _ fuck,  _ he was whining breathlessly, rhythmic as if he was being fucked, growing louder by the second. Harry opened his eyes, looking at Louis and it was then that he started to rub his palm over his own hard, clothed dick. 

“Fucking hell,  _ Louis,” _ he grunted, still whining and moaning, his whole body writhing under his own touch and his head drooped between his shoulders as he swallowed. He threw his head back, his hair flicking up and fanning as he bit his lip, a particularly high pitched whine bubbled from his throat as he writhed desperately into his own palm, twitching before exhaling heavily with a grunt and closing his eyes, his upper body heaving with each breath. 

“Fuck,” Harry panted. “Beautiful.”

Louis had been staring in absolute wonder, and he crawled onto the floor to face Harry.

“That was fucking amazing,” he said quietly. Harry’s face and neck were flushed and glistening with sweat, strands of hair stuck to his skin. He slowly opened his eyes and looked at Louis. He leaned in, slipping his hand around Louis’ neck and kissed him, wet and dirty.

-

“...And then I got dressed, we left the room and I locked it behind us. We kissed again, and you just… disappeared into the night. And that’s it.” 

He hadn’t noticed until now, but Harry had shuffled even closer and his knee was brought up and bookended by both their chests. Harry was wearing a coy grin, staring down at nothing.

“Oh my God,” he whispered. “How fucking embarrassing.”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Louis said, feeling rather embarrassed himself. “It was… well…”

“I mean - it sounds  _ fucking _ hot, to be honest.”

“Yeah, it, um… for a drunken encounter, it was pretty great.”

Harry tilted his head against the back of the sofa and grinned, biting his bottom lip slightly. Louis’ breath caught in his throat.

“I’m so angry I don’t remember it.”

Louis watched Harry closely.  He seemed reluctant to make eye contact but he started to finger at the string of Louis’ hoodie, and it might have been his imagination but he thought Harry had a dreamy look in his eyes, affected by the story.

“Harry…”

“It’s not fair,” Harry murmured, smirking ever so slightly. “It’s like you’ve had sex with me but I’ve not had sex with you. It’s… just not fair.”

Louis grinned, placing a hand on Harry’s knee.

“You were very satisfied at the time, I promise.”

“It’s funny, I woke up the next morning with  _ the _ biggest hangover and a very uncomfortable mess in my boxers. I did wonder.”

Louis rolled his eyes, shaking his head fondly. 

“To be honest…” Louis grinned, feeling brave. “When I heard you were moving to London, I was hoping to, you know…  _ see _ you again, although honestly I did  _ not _ want you to move in.”

“Oh! Nice!” Harry scoffed.

“But _ only _ because I wanted to fuck you.”

A pitiful whine came from Harry’s throat, a far cry from the indecent noises Louis remembered spilling from that gorgeous mouth. Still, it went straight to his dick, which was already alive and kicking after telling the story. 

“It just seemed complicated and messy,” Louis continued. “I never thought you’d actually agree to move in, but that was because I thought you’d remember me.”

Harry rolled his eyes. His hand had moved from Louis’ hoodie to his jaw, the backs of Harry’s fingers skating over the stubble. Louis leaned into the touch.

“Is this awkward?” Harry smiled slightly, sniffing. “Is it gonna be awkward between us?”

“It’s not been awkward since I told you we hooked up.”

“I know, but now you’ve shared the details...” Harry glanced down at Louis’ lips. “It’s throwing me off a bit. It’s a bit like… you know when you have a sex dream about someone? And you don’t know how to act around them? And you-”

“Harry. Can you relax a bit?” Louis grinned. “It’s not gonna be awkward.”

“Um-” Harry stuttered.

Louis licked his lips, leaning in and kissing Harry. It was tentative and soft, but the tension between them snapped like a rubber band and before he knew it, Louis had Harry’s tongue in his mouth and his own hand was massaging Harry’s thigh, his hand so high up that his knuckle kept bumping Harry’s half-hard dick.

“Louis,” Harry pulled away and started speaking quickly. “I’ve fancied you since the moment I walked through the door of this flat.  Fuck. I’ve been trying to work out how to handle it ever since, oh my  _ God, _ and this past week I couldn’t  _ believe _ we’d done stuff and I didn’t remember it, I just want you so fucking bad…”

“Do you want to go to my room?” Louis replied.

They dashed towards Louis’ bedroom, Harry tripping over his own feet on the way; they bundled into the room and Louis slammed the door, leaning his back against it. He watched as Harry quickly stripped his clothes off, naked in literally seconds. Louis took a deep, steadying breath. Harry was beautiful; Louis had been  _ waiting and waiting  _ to finally see him naked and here he was, littered with tattoos, lean and muscled, gorgeous dick bobbing hard and away from his body.

“Louis.” Harry was stroking his hand over his own dick, walking to Louis. “What do you want?”

“Um-” Louis tore his eyes away from Harry’s dick. “I have to admit, I made a small omission with the story.”

“Oh?” Harry pouted, stilling his hand. 

Louis ran his fingers down Harry’s chest. “The last thing you said to me was,  _ I wanna fuck you next time. _ So, I was thinking…”

“Haha!” Harry sighed, moving his hand again. “Sounds about right. You been thinking about that?”

“Every fucking day.”

Harry placed his palms on Louis’ chest, pushing him firm against the door and kissed him, quickly ridding him of his jeans, and pulling his hoodie and t-shirt over his head in one go. He cupped Louis through his boxers, both moaning against each other’s mouths. 

Harry pulled away to tug Louis’ boxers down and his breath caught in his throat.

“Baby, your cock is so pretty.”

Louis smirked to himself as they moved to the bed and he found his lube and a condom, throwing them onto his duvet. 

“Lay down, babe.” Harry climbed on the bed, hovering over Louis. “Let me take care of you.”

He lifted Louis’ right leg onto his shoulder, drizzling lube onto his index and middle finger. 

“You ready?”

“Yes,” Louis growled impatiently. “Been ready since November.”

“Yeah,” Harry scoffed. “You and me both.”

He stroked his fingertip slowly over Louis’ hole, and Louis arched his back and let out a moan. When he’d flipped out at Harry on New Year's Eve, he’d genuinely thrown the idea of anything happening between them out the window. And now, here they were, Harry’s finger pressing into his arse.  _ Finally.  _ He groaned at the thought. 

Harry was biting his bottom lip, gazing down on Louis in awe and he started to whine. It was curious; either he completely hammed it up during sex or he really, really enjoyed pleasuring Louis. He was stroking into him up to the second knuckle and Louis was writhing around, the maddening, indecent sex sounds coming from Harry going straight to his dick.

“Feel so fucking good,” Harry murmured, leaning forward and putting his weight on his left forearm, attaching his lips to Louis’ neck. “ _ God… Louis.” _

Their eyes met as Harry pulled his finger back, pushing a second in alongside it. Harry continued to moan as his mouth explored Louis’ body; his jaw, his neck, his collarbone, a nipple. The heat between their bodies was searing and Louis thought he might combust.

“Need more, Harry,” Louis breathed. “Please.”

Harry started to fuck his fingers into Louis, pulling them out and pushing them back in hard. When he removed his fingers altogether, Louis whined so throatily it was basically a scream.

“Gotta be-” Harry swallowed, clumsily lubing his fingers up some more, “Patient, Lou.”

Harry pushed three fingers straight into Louis and the burn of the stretch was as delicious as it was agonising. Harry picked his pace up once again, efficiently thrusting into him, crooking his fingers and stroking Louis’ walls on every drag. He ghosted over Louis’ prostate and his hips bucked.

“Shit!” Louis cried out. “Harry,  _ fuck me,  _ please, I’ll beg, _ please.” _

Harry grinned, stroking directly over Louis’ prostate, moaning indulgently as Louis lost the plot, writhing on his fingers and making sobbing noises. Louis felt his dick throbbing as he tried to fuck down on Harry’s fingers, and Harry thrust his fingers inside Louis a couple more times before slowly pulling them out.

Louis was trembling. The anticipation was overwhelming as he watched Harry sit back on his heels, trying to be quick but fumbling with the condom, his hands slick with lube.

“Need some help?” Louis croaked out, a small smile playing on his lips.

“No,” Harry mumbled, scoffing as he brought the foil packet up to his teeth.

“Be careful. Don’t tear it.”

“This isn’t my first time, Louis,” Harry scoffed, before grinning down at him. 

Louis shook his head, impatiently stroking over his own dick as he watched Harry roll the condom over his own erection, moaning loudly.

“Fuck me,” Louis whined pitifully as Harry quickly lubed himself up, swallowing and taking a breath.

“Turn over,” Harry demanded. Louis complied at once, flipping onto his front and sticking his arse high in the air, presenting himself to Harry, open, wet, and ready. “ _ God.  _ Gorgeous.”

Harry finally started to push in and Louis felt like his brain cut out. He dropped his head between his shoulders, clenching his eyes shut as Harry filled him up, the stretch white hot and satisfying. His thoughts were jumbled and fuzzy and when Harry bottomed out, his hips flush against Louis’ arse, Louis found himself sobbing.

Harry placed his hands either side of Louis’ forearms, leaning down to nip at the back of his neck and mumble in his ear.

“Feel  _ so good _ baby,” Harry sighed, sounding strained as his hips started to move ever so slightly. “Can’t believe I’m inside you.”

“Please.” Louis threw his head back and Harry kissed his jaw. “Move.”

Harry started to move slowly and it was  _ unreal. _ Louis wasn’t too sure if it was because it had been a long time coming or because Harry had been so eager, but Louis had never felt so relieved and satisfied to have someone inside of him like this. On the one hand, he wanted it to last forever, but on the other hand… he felt very highly strung and he needed to come as soon as possible.

Harry sped up, grunting and whining in time with his thrusts and Louis wanted more,  _ more, _ and he wasn’t sure anything would be enough until he could absorb Harry’s very being inside of his own. He started to slam his hips backwards into Harry, who let out the most gorgeous, sinful moan and started to pound as hard as he could into Louis. The sounds of slapping skin filled Louis’ bedroom and his hips were starting to ache with the exertion and force,  He stopped pushing back into Harry, content to feel him slamming into him, until Harry slowed down, his hips thrusting shallowly into him.

“You okay? Wanna turn over?”

“Uh, yeah,” Louis breathed. He winced as Harry pulled out and swiftly flipped Louis onto his back before he could even move. Harry hooked his arms under Louis’ knees and took a second to catch his breath.

“Can I ask you something?” he panted.

“Now?” Louis whined, writhing under him and bucking his hips pointedly.

“This isn’t gonna be just a one night thing, is it?” Harry asked, frowning. “I don’t wanna get hurt.”

Louis frowned, sighing and pulling Harry down to kiss him. 

“I’ve just spent…” he kissed him again, “two months getting to know you and-” they kissed once again, “trying to resist jumping you.”

Harry groaned, moving back and lining himself up.

“Okay.” He quickly pushed in, making Louis gasp and he bottomed out with a couple of thrusts. He pushed Louis’ knees to his chest and started to pound into him relentlessly, Louis’ head swimming with the noises coming from Harry. The slapping of skin, the loud, breathy whines coupled with the occasional obscenity, Harry’s trademark sniff. All of them kept Louis grounded. Louis could barely even see Harry’s face, his curls bouncing and waving back and forth with his thrusts, but Louis knew he looked beautiful. 

“Harry… Oh,  _ Harry… _ ” Louis panted. “Harry, I promise.”

“Jesus christ... “ Harry growled, speeding up even further. “Promise what?”

“I won’t hurt you, baby, I promise, I’ll never hurt you… fuck...”

“God,” Harry murmured, leaning down. Louis pushed the sweaty hair from Harry’s face and they met in a sloppy, aroused mess of a kiss. “I’m close, Lou.”

Louis wasn’t too far off, either. He dug his fingertips into Harry’s back, gripping on for dear life as Harry chased his own orgasm. Louis’ eyes fluttered closed, swimming in the bliss until he felt a rough hand wrap around his dick. His eyes darted open; Harry was biting down so hard on his own lip that Louis thought he’d draw blood and he was dragging his hand over Louis’ shaft in time with his relentless pounding. 

Louis came with a shout, arching his back and clenching around a pained looking Harry.

“Gorgeous,” Harry panted, eyes wide. Louis felt boneless, watching as Harry thrusted a couple of more times before stilling, going silent for a split second before coming, pulsing inside of Louis. He was shouting, sobbing as if he couldn’t catch his breath, his hips jerking as he rode through it, eventually falling onto Louis with a grunt. “Oh… shit.”

“Mm… you alright?” Louis rasped. 

“Yeah,” Harry sighed, groaning as he reached down to hold the base of the condom as he pulled out of Louis, who hissed at the movement. Harry wriggled off of him, laying next to him and kissed his shoulder. “That was amazing.”

“So sweaty.”

“Mm.”

Louis wrapped an arm around Harry’s shoulder and closed his eyes. He listened to the sounds of Harry catching his breath, quiet little noises or yawns or sniffs coming from him occasionally and it hit Louis that he was content.  _ Happy. _

“People do this, right?” Louis asked, opening his eyes and looking at Harry, who was snuggled into his underarm.

“Yes, love, people shag.”

“Shut up, Haz,” Louis laughed lightly, and for a split second, it felt like they were just friends again. Like they were sitting on the sofa eating a curry and watching Netflix, easy banter - which was actually flirting - flowing between the two of them. Except that they were currently naked. “I mean… people manage to start relationships as housemates, don’t they?”

Harry raised his eyebrows and Louis’ eyes widened. 

“Oh, um-” Louis cleared his throat. “If that’s what you want, is that what you want? Sorry, I assumed you meant-”

“Lou,” Harry said softly, smiling. “Is it what you want?”

“I wanna give it a go.”

“Then alright,” Harry grinned at him. “So, when am I taking you out?”

-

“I don’t have sex on the first date.”

“Okay, but we’ve already had sex.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“You’re so annoying,” Harry pouted as Louis turned the key in the lock and they stepped into the flat. “You’re wasting valuable dick time.”

“You’re so gross,” Louis started to scoff but it died in his throat when Harry kicked the door closed and crowded him up against the wall, kissing him deeply and slipping his hands inside his open suit jacket, squeezing his hips. 

“Are you  _ sure _ you don’t have sex on the first date?” Harry mumbled, moving his mouth to Louis’ neck. Louis let out a pitiful whine. “Not even a blowie? Not  _ even _ a handjob?”

“Harry, you’re an arsehole,” Louis sighed, closing his eyes as Harry started to unbutton his shirt, flinching every couple of seconds from Harry’s cold hands. “Can’t you just let me have personal standards?”

“You’ve just been on a date with  _ me, _ I’d say your standards are high enough.”

“Oh,  _ God,” _ Louis laughed, rolling his eyes and pushing Harry off him. He marched into the living room, Harry hot on his tail. “I think you need a coffee. And maybe a cold shower.”

“I need  _ you _ ,” Harry said, crashing into Louis as he stopped at the threshold of the kitchen. “What about dry humping? That’s okay?”

“Why don’t we just have that coffee and see where the evening takes us?” Louis smiled to himself, walking into the kitchen and switching on the coffee machine. 

Harry whined petulantly in his ear. “But I’m already half hard.”

“Not my problem,” Louis said in a sing-song voice, trying to hide the hitch in his breath when Harry pressed against his bum. “Think you should have decaf, mister.  You didn’t sleep properly last night.” As he spoke he slowly pushed his bum out, rubbing into Harry’s crotch.

“You’re a  _ horrible _ man,” Harry sighed, licking and sucking gently at a spot on Louis’ neck. 

Ten minutes later, their coffees sat abandoned on the coffee table, Harry slumped on the sofa with Louis straddling him. They were kissing lazily, Louis’ hips squirming with Harry’s hands down the back of his trousers, massaging his arse. 

“Hey, Haz.” Louis pulled away from his mouth, smiling softly. “You came on pretty strong, you know.”

“I’m really fucking horny, Lou, I can’t help it.”

“I mean since moving in.”

“Oh,” Harry smiled coyly. “Sorry.”

“The H and L tree ornaments, Harry.  Honestly.”

Harry’s smile faded and he stared at Louis intensely. Louis ran a thumb over his cheek.

“I adored you,” Harry said quietly, staring at Louis’ mouth and clutching his arse as if to comfort himself. “Still do.”

“Harry,” Louis whispered. Harry blinked, dragging his eyes up to meet Louis’. Louis rolled his eyes, shaking his head slightly. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Harry froze. He visibly swallowed, staring wide eyed at Louis who smiled helplessly.

“Okay…” Harry said slowly. “So you’re telling me you don’t have sex on the first date, but saying  _ I love you _ is absolutely fine?”

“Wanker,” Louis grinned. “Fuck it. I do, I love you.”

Harry grinned, looking down between their bodies and up again.

“This has got to mean we’re having sex tonight, surely?”

“For God’s sake, Harry!”

Harry slipped a finger between Louis’ arse cheeks and pressed a finger to his hole. Louis let out a pathetic whine, rocking back onto Harry’s touch.

“Love your arse,” Harry mumbled, kissing Louis’ mouth. “Love your mouth, fuck. I want it on me.”

“Yeah,” Louis sighed, feeling hazy. 

“Love your cock.  Oh my God, I love your cock.”

“Harry…” Louis whined. “Don’t be a dick.”

“I love your… um…”

Louis ground down on Harry’s crotch and he cried out.

“Fuck, okay,” Harry sighed, smiling. “I love you. Happy?”

Louis smiled widely.

“I’m very fucking happy.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this fic, please please reblog this [tumblr post](https://catfishau.tumblr.com/post/171896768781/dinosaursmate-carried-away-like-butterflies) and help me out by sharing it with your followers. Thank you! Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. If you're so inclined, you can check out my [Buy Me a Coffee page](https://www.buymeacoffee.com/dinosaursmate) if you'd like to say thank you in another way <3


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